


Project Zmey

by themirrordarkly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Blood, Body Horror, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Dark, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Sad Ending, Scary, Sex, Sexual Content, Some Humor, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Stucky Scary Bang 2017, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-26 12:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12557048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themirrordarkly/pseuds/themirrordarkly
Summary: There is a small Ukrainian Hydra lab, and in it, there's something that was long forgotten and locked away. Something strange. Bucky discovers what that is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartsforbuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsforbuck/gifts), [AraniaArt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraniaArt/gifts).



> This is for the Scary Stucky Bang 2017! This was a collaboration with araniaart( http://araniaart.tumblr.com ) which did some absolutely fantastic comic art for this prompt! And I am stunned by their talent and generosity! It will be embedded in the fic in a following chapter! ♡♡
> 
> The prompt was by heartforbuck and I will place it in the end notes as it might be a bit spoiler like.
> 
> Please enjoy this angsty fic and give Bucky the biggest of hugs!  
> Fair warning as this is a horror fic, so tread with that in mind as I might have missed a tag and the ending is on the sad side.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As myth, dragons go by many names, but in the Easten European lands they are symbolic of the serpent, be it for evil or good. Russia and Ukraine have their own fables of a three-headed green scaled dragons which could breath fire and fly. Of shorter front legs and two longer back ones, they say they are shape shifers and can walk up right. If you cut off one head it will grow back, unless the neck is burnt to ash. The old legends and stories pass down through generations changing as they go, with embellishments or forgotten knowledge. Then there is a secret truth, that certain myths can be real and in turn exploited. The name of these mythical beasts are called Zmey._

The cave had a thermal spring to keep him warm. Bucky was shivering, curled up near the spring’s humid air. His clothes useless rags caked with mud and dirt, unable to keep him warm. He blacked out again. The days and nights blending into one another. He crawled over to a wall on all fours to lap the water running down the side of the cave. The minerals were good, salty--water fresh. Rough grit coated his tongue. He missed Romania and his shitty flat, lumpy mattress, cracked coffee mug and German chocolate. He’d kill for dark chocolate now. He played the last month over in his swiss-cheese brain of how he got here. In this small Ukrainian cave, in the middle of bum fuck nowhere.

It was safer for everyone if he lived out here. He wasn't safe anymore with people. Didn't trust the urges, the need for destruction that crackled through his body. The feeling of utter strangest of his own body. It felt alien. His dreams foreign and unlike anything he could remember. But his memory wasn't good. Not after Hydra kept wiping him, starting over. But he hadn’t been wiped in over a year. His brain was healing. He was remembering the missions first. Always the missions. Each death was a black mark on his heart. Impossible to atone for. He didn't even know where to begin with that. So he hid and tried to live a simple life, low profile. And ever so often he raided a safehouse or located a hopefully abandoned Hydra facility for supplies, money and answers. Because he had so many questions. Like who the hell was Bucky Barnes, really? He knew he was Bucky. A name he reclaimed. But it was all muddled like flashes from a movie. He was watching his life in his head but felt...nothing. The emotional connection to family and friends in past was gone or so buried he’d need an earthmover to uncover them.

But now he felt that he was slipping back into one of the Winter Soldiers. The past never dies. It just gets unburied to exposed the bleached bones to the sun. To be studied and put on display in a case, like some freak show attraction at Coney Island or an antiquity in a dusty museum. It never ends, and he could just give up and die, but it was too ingrained in him not to give up at all costs. It was beaten into him as he was honed into a living weapon that never gave up...until, what?

Bucky crawled over to a pile of animal bones and picked through them, looking for any meat left, but they've been stripped clean. He'd have to go hunting soon. He needed more wood too as he burned through it all for cooking and heat. He cracked a bone opened with a sharpened rock. Splitting it wider and sucking on the spongy marrow. The explosion of buttery softness on his tongue was delicious; it won't last, but he was going to enjoy it as there wasn't much left to enjoy.

He didn’t even have one of his journals to write in. So he took to writing with some gypsum he found. Writing on the walls so he could count the days and try to stay sane writing what he could. It seemed like something he did in the past. A flash of messy scribblings covering half a wall of a cell. It was memories. Without his pen and paper, he had to figure out in his head what happened when he went to that Hydra base, and found something so secret that it was forgotten or left behind in the rush after the fall of Hydra.

But he didn't trust that. Hydra always came back. It was a disease that could flair up at any given moment. He didn't trust they were really gone. They thought in the past they could stop them. World War 2. Yeah, they were so wrong. Bucky was fucking proof of that.

 

* * *

  
_One month ago_

Bucky had found the hidden Ukrainian lab. One that was on his ‘to be raided’ list. It wasn't too hard with the Intel that he had. He might have even been here once. But they kept him mainly in Siberia. It might have been mission related then. He was sent to many countries as the Winter Soldier, and the places just were locations on a map to him. Carefully, he scouted the area. He traveled light with a couple knives, a Glock and his backpack with the essentials: money, fake ID, dry food, a journal and pen, first-aid and various miscellaneous items that he would need. He bypassed the door’s punch code by unscrewing the panel and crossing the correct wires. The door camera’s light wasn't on. But he didn't take any chances, staying out of its field of vision, crouching close to the door. Once inside, he headed directly to the security room. The lay out was predictable, so he founded it quickly.

The place was abandoned alright and in a hurry. Papers were scattered and not burned, just thrown in the trash. He opened up the shredder and still found paper in it that could be pieced together. The security appeared locked down under normal protocols. The computers offline, hard drives missing. The air was hot and still without the air conditioning to move the air around. It was just stagnant. Dust already was gathering on the desks and chairs. There was a locked weapons cabinet that he pried open easily with his metal hand. There was some boxes of ammo and other goodies, like small, round grenades which could come in handy. Also a roll of cash. Stuffing them all away in his backpack, he decided to hit the labs next. The stations could have something of value.

Bucky wasn't nervous per se, but an uneasiness settled on him as he entered the laboratories. Again it was a rush evacuation even a couple files were left at a station. He glanced over them, stopping at one in particular. The title said: _Project Zmey_ , written in Russian across the file. The file thin as he flipped it open. There stamped in red across the first page: _terminated_. Which was odd. If the project was canceled why was the file out at all? Or maybe that’s why it was out? It was useless. Bucky skimmed through it. All medical jargon, but the date jumped out of him--1979. The starting dates of the project were over 30 years old. Something didn't seem right about that, but he couldn't put his finger on it. His metal fingers twitched at his agitation; he took the file to go over later.

 

* * *

 

Bucky went down the stairs to the sublevel where the real dirty work of Hydra lurked--the medical facilities.There was a thumping coming from one of the doors in the holding cells.

Thump. Thump.

Did they leave somebody down here? But they’d be dead already with the lack of food. He took his gun out and made his way to the noise, clipping a flashlight to a belt loop on his jeans. Bucky clinked the light switch and nothing happened. The power was deliberately cut to the section.

Thud. Thud.

The noise sounded like somebody pounding on a door. Maybe it was a Hydra agent or it could’ve been something mechanical. But the thumping wasn't regular enough for that. And with the power off that lowered the chance of machinery. Whoever it was they didn't bother throwing them into cryo. Or care enough to take them, so Hydra just left them. But why? They’d be dead already. It was a year, maybe, since Hydra would've bugged out.

Bucky crept his way to the cell doors, down a long hallway and near the end a huge vault-door loomed. Solid steel, with a wheel hatch to open it. The light on his belt loop swung with each step, casting moving shadows, light and dark. The black shapes skittering on the walls as if alive. Bucky's adrenaline kicked in.

Thump. Thump.

It was louder now coming from the vault door. He tensed, heart beating a little faster. There was going to be an encounter. Bucky’s hand gripped the pistol tighter, finger itching at the trigger. The plates and servos of his left arm clicked together, moving as his tension ramped up his body. He licked at lips, narrowing his eyes.

Thud. Thud.

Bucky didn't call out. It could be the enemy. He got to the door pressing his metal hand on it. It was thick and there was a food slot and small metal sliding peephole. Bucky slid it open to a thick plexiglass window. Peering in, it was dark inside the cell. He wasn't sure if he could open the door without whatever inside escaping or attacking him. But he’d chanced it. Bucky’d set it up in a way to protect himself and kill, if necessary. But first the door.

In his backpack, he found a length of thin climbing rope and secured it to the door so he could pull it open and not be near, just in case.

Thud!

The noise startled him and he jerked his head up to stare hard at the door. Bucky shoved down any nervousness switching back to his harsh training to be alert, vigilant, ready.

He slowly turned the wheel on the vault door. And stepped away, picking up the rope with his left hand, his gun trained on the door as he crouched in a corner and pulled the door open. The first thing he noticed was the stench like rotten meat or eggs. It watered his eyes, and he covered his nose with his sleeve. But nothing else happened. No one came out.

Bucky listened and there was no more thumping, but heard a chain dragging on the floor, scraping, a quiet jingle. Then dead silence. He waited a full tense minute, counting each second down, before he crept up to the door, gun ready.

He peered in. The cell was large. His flashlight shined on the far wall and flickered over to the side walls. It appeared to be about a 10x20 room. He noticed that there was no cot, no sink, no toilet. There was a spigot for water, matted hay and a soil blanket and bones. Bones scattered all over the floor. Chewed and broken. This wasn't a cell for human but for an animal. And he couldn't see the occupant, but he knew someone or something was there, because he heard breathing.

Bucky swung the light around the room. And there, in a corner was a shadow, a large bulk curled up small or as small as it could get. The chain pulled up with it. The thing looked huge. It took up the corner and Bucky realized that this cell was too small for this animal or whatever it was. Bucky took a cautious step into the room.

“I mean you no harm.” Bucky tried in Russian. The animal stirred and he saw a pair of yellow eyes staring at him--reptilian. Bucky wasn't sure if he understood him, but maybe it understood body language, he hoped. He crouched down low so he wasn't towering over it, posture loose. But he wasn't going to put the gun away, hell no.

An animal abused like this, left alone, could be feral or feel cornered and lash out. A tiger in a cage was still untamed and would kill you even if you be nice and feed it. He didn't want to leave it here alive and starving, that would be too cruel. He could put it down. Stop its suffering. A bullet in the brain, quick, sudden, and it would be over and at peace.

“Hey.” He moved closer, shining the light. The creature moved slow and sluggish; he noticed a long tail wrapped around its body, cocooning it. It was a reptile that much he figured out, and if it was like an alligator, it would have big, sharp teeth. He wasn't getting anywhere near the head area, so it could clamp down on him with its teeth. Bucky wasn't sure how far the chain stretched, but he was reasonably certain that it didn't reach the door. With the dim light, he couldn't judge the scrape marks to give an accurate guess. He did believe he entered the room far enough that he still had room to escape if it came to that. The decaying odor was dissipating with the door open.

“Gogol. Can I call you, Го́голь?” Bucky asked in a low voice. It was the golden eyes that struck Bucky. They stood out as they kept staring at him.

“My name is Bucky.” His eyes glanced at the spigot. “Would you like some water?”

The creature shifted, and settled again. Its sides moving in and out with each breath. The tail ventured out slowly towards Bucky. He wanted to touch it and switched his gun to his left hand and carefully reach out with the right. The scales were dry and smooth. The animal looked malnourished; he could count the ribs as he studied it.

“I don't know how to get you out of here. But maybe I can think of something,” Bucky mused more to himself than the animal. “But first that water, I promised.”

Bucky with measured movement, stood up and backed away still looking at those yellow eyes.

He found a metal bowl up ended near the spigot. Turning it over, he used his sleeve to clean it out before filling it with water. He’d glanced away just for a split second, but that was all it took. Stupid. He felt so stupid. As the creature must have been biding his time, looking for an opening, and he gave it to him. _Dammit._

The water bowl clattered to the floor, splashing his jeans as the creature rushed up and crushed him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. The chain just long enough. He was a pinned moth up against the wall by the massive bulk of the lizard, both arms trapped.

“Jesus, Fucking, Christ! I'm trying to help you!” The creature sniffed at him as saliva dripped from its teeth onto Bucky's face. The jaws inches away from his head, its large teeth sharp and glistening. It’s golden eyes, sinister as they narrowed.

“Get it over with! Just do it.” Bucky was breathing hard, his lungs hurt. He had cracked a rib. _Shit!_ Claws, tipped in black, scraped down his shirt, tearing it open. Blood welled up in the long cuts. Another head swivelled around to stare at him, then another. There were three heads. It was a Hydra. A fucking Hydra. Bucky felt a hysterical laughter bubbling up, like of course it was a Hydra. A snake-like tongue licked up over his bleeding chest to his neck then stopped. And drew back to stare as if it could look confused.

“No.” One head started. “Hydra.” The other head finished.

_It fucking talks!_ Bucky’s brain was sputtering.

They talked, each finishing the other’s sentences.

“Kin. Dred.”

“Help. Us.”

“That's what I'm doing!” Bucky shouted, each breath burning his lungs. He was calculating the best way out the door.

Bucky palm a knife, working his left hand free. He jabbed the knife in one of the Hydra’s necks. It sunk in deep, warm blood spraying in his face as it was so close. It hissed and roared in pain, loosening his hold on him. Bucky ran for the door, over the slippery bones and debris, but a whipping tail came out, tripping him. He fell face first on the floor.

“Why?” The creature cried out. “Help us.”

“No, no…” Bucky clawed the floor to get up, the bones and filth not giving him a purchase. The tail circled and yanked his leg. The door so close. Before he was dragged back into the shadows. This time he screamed before he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

Bucky woke up outside. His eyes cracking open, mouth wet with something. He felt sticky and chilled. The sun was telling him it was early morning. Dew sparkled on the grass near his nose. He...he remembered claws tearing into his heavy jacket like tissue paper. Blinking his eyes, he rolled over on his back; he was alive. He wasn't sure how. His memory was all fuzzy, but that wasn't anything new. He’d gone to the Hydra base and what? He’d found money, bullets, maybe, and some cryptic Hydra info about  Zmey something. The sublevel. There was something down there, something… His body gave an involuntary shiver. His mind like mercury unable to grasp what was missing, but knew it wasn’t good.

He turned his head and staring at him was the dead eyes of a red deer with full rack of antlers.

Bucky choked.  “What the?” His breath pulling through his nose quick as he tried to get over the shock. He pushed up on his hands and knees, unsteady. His hands were caked with semi-fresh blood. It seeped into the grooves of his metal hand. Slowly, he looked up. It just was the head of the deer. The body was missing. But as his gaze circled around...No...Not missing. It was everywhere. The carcass, half-eaten. Its intestines spilling out, legs torn off. The gristle and meat hanging off the leg bones, scattered and broken like twigs.

  
“What the hell,” Bucky whispered. “What the hell.” His eyes glanced down at his clothes--ripped, dirty and soaked with blood. He wiped his hand on the dirt, then touched his face and it came away red. The blood was not his. Not his. And then he realized what was in his mouth when he woke up. Bucky didn't think he had a gag reflex anymore. He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Го́голь=Gogol
> 
> Next chapter coming soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artwork by AraniaArt has been embedded in this chapter at the end)

Steve found Bucky soon after that. After a month hiding out in a cave. Bucky had to come out sometime. He was hungry. Steve’d been visiting old Hydra bases too. Really Steve was looking for clues about him.

The meeting wasn't the greatest.

Steve found him curled up by a tree. He startled Bucky and he tried to punch him, but he wasn’t at his best. Not even close. And he really didn’t want to fight this man anymore. He already shot him a few times and stabbed him in the past. And he still looked healthy as a horse, so it wasn’t worth it. Bucky was in sorry shape. He didn't put up much of a fight. He just wanted to go home. He was so tired, tired of running.

Though Bucky didn't remember everything about Steve, he had a feeling about him. Steve was home to Bucky, as much as if he could have one. The memories of Steve from the past. The ones that Bucky had to sort out. Maybe Steve had the answers.

As he sat in Steve's car, with his friend Sam, he couldn't help thinking what would happen next, because he had such lousy luck. His whole life, but for maybe 26 years of it, was a total shitshow. Bucky sat in the back seat, arms crossed, not talking, giving death glares and intimidating no one. He was pathetic. He really was.

There was a ray of good luck. Steve found his backpack at the Ukraine base. He didn't ask what else he found. So when Steve got in the car and was about to start it, he questioned Bucky about it.

“What happened, Bucky.”

Bucky didn't want to really talk, but he answered.

“What do you mean?”

“Back at the Hydra base?” Steve had a careful look on his face like he knew he was stepping on eggshells.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Bucky said, turning his head to look out the window, effectively shutting Steve down. Steve frowned, but he started the car up, dropping the subject for now.

Sam asked him if he wanted to stop first for some food. Bucky shook his head, no.

When he got to Steve's and Sam's hotel room he didn't know what to do first.

“Do you want to get washed up?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah.”

But after Bucky said that, he walked into the bathroom and just stood, staring at the shower stall for 30 minutes doing nothing. Because apparently, he just couldn't do it. He was too overwhelmed about a hot shower. He couldn't get in the damn thing. Steve found him there. And turn the water on and got towels and asked him if he needed help undressing. Bucky just shook his head. He didn't know why he shut down. But he finally striped out of his filthy clothes. Which really needed to be burned, because they were so bad. He stayed in the shower for an hour, because maybe he'd be clean after that, but he doubted it.

He stepped out in a towel, hair dripping wet. The shower was a bit of a miracle, putting him in a better mood.

“Feel better?” Steve asked, not looking directly at him. Kinda of like he was shy, seeing a guy half naked. Or maybe it was just him. Bucky didn’t think he was much to look at, the scruffy beard, the long hair. The scars.

“I don't feel like roadkill anymore.” Bucky snorted.

Steve shook his head chuckling at Bucky’s joke and got him some pants and a t-shirt to wear.

Afterward, Steve gave him a shave. Bucky surprised himself agreeing to the suggestion. Steve wasn't gonna cut his throat. He’d rather kill him with kindness. He asked about the hair too, but no, just a shave for now. Bucky didn't want to do  too many things in one day. Maybe he’d waited for different day on that.

He ate his first regular meal, vacantly. He wasn't used to the cooked food, barely eating it, and he drank his water too fast, sputtering it out. Steve cleaned it up the mess, but he felt like a fool. It was going to take a little time with regular food. After the meal, Bucky raided the refrigerator and found some raw hamburger. Opening the package, he sneaked some, eating it raw. It seemed to settle his stomach.

That night he went through the found backpack. He couldn't remember all he'd grabbed from before... He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was a blank. The file was on _Project Zmey._ It would be light reading. The file was thin; he could finish it before sleep.

After reading the file, he set it down, pushing it away. It was strange, he felt so detached about the whole thing. He finally understood why that year was so familiar. 1979. It was the year Hydra decided they wanted to do some improvements on the Winter Soldier. And that would be him. He blocked it out. Now he knew why. It was a failure, after a series of excruciating trials and tests. He remembered injections in him that set his veins on fire. It was worse than the serum, much worse. It was all on some hypothesis that dragonborn could be made. Dragons were just myth. Of course, it didn't stop them. But now he could sit back with a critical eye and read the file like it didn't happen to him. He wasn't the only test subject either, but all others died. He just got put back in deep freeze.

He dreamed of golden eyes staring at him that evening.

They flew back to the States two days later. Finally, he’d be on U.S. soil. It had been so long. Steve decided that they get an apartment together in Brooklyn just like the old days. Bucky shook his head and didn't know what to say about that. But he let Steve do it, because it made him smile. Bucky loved that look on him. Wishing that he could always make him smile like that.

 

* * *

 

“The tests results,” Agent Hill said. “They are nothing like we’ve seen before.” She was sitting down, flipping through the papers.

“He has the serum like me,” Steve said. “How is it any different?” He paced the room in agitation.

“Yes, but he has more than the serum,” she said.

“What?” Steve asked.

“He has animal DNA. It is Reptilia, subspecies Squamata.”

“Can I have that in English, please?”

“Lizard. He has a few strands of lizard DNA after we did the DNA sequence. Barnes has both human genome and lizard genome.”

“How is that even possible?” Steve's voice sounded strained.

“Maybe they were cloning fragments of DNA. I don't know, but I’d like to keep him for further observation and testing.”

“I promised him.”

“I'm sorry, Steve.”

“I don't think that is a good idea. I could watch over him and he can periodically go in for testing Locking him up for medical experiments isn't a good idea. He's been through a lot.”

“Are you sure he's trustworthy?”

“I’d trust him with my life. He doesn’t want anything to want to do with Hydra again.”

Of course, they didn't know Bucky heard the whole conversation, because someone left the damn speaker phone on in the other room.

* * *

 

He'd been living in the apartment for a few months now, getting used to a routine. The early morning jogs, the stops at the coffee shop. He also decided to try his hand at gardening of all things. Babying his tomato plants gave him a certain peace. Growing things, not destroying them. He'd even started slowly venturing out to different cooked foods such as parmesan baked fish and garlic butter steamed vegetables. So it happened out of the blue when Bucky said it.

“I love you,” Bucky said. They were watching television eating cheeze puffs and drinking Mountain Dew. He blurted it out. It just clinked with him. He loved Steve Rogers.

“What did you just say?” Steve turned wide eyed toward him, swallowing a cheeze puff he’d been chewing.

“I love you. I think I loved you before, didn't I?” Bucky smiled, bumping his fist into Steve’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes you did.” Steve nodded, looking stunned.

“I just wanted to say that,” Bucky said and he leaned up against Steve’s shoulder. They finished watching the show on Netflix. It was a Disney movie. He remembered those. This one was called Moana. They both ended up crying over it. Damn Disney movies. He still never got over Bambi’s mother dying. And then he remembered the deer in the Ukraine and he didn’t feel happy anymore. He excused himself to his room after the movie and he slept alone.

 

* * *

 

The neighbor’s cat hated him. She always hissed at him when he got the mail.

 

* * *

 

Bucky knew he sounded desperate to Steve. He knew he did to his own ears.

“Was it too much, too soon?” Bucky down next to Steve under a tree after their morning jog. “Saying, I love you?”

“No Buck, I just never dreamed you’d remember what we had.” Steve drew up both his knees, circling his arms around them. “I thought it was…” Steve shook his head.  “Never mind that. I'm here for you when you're ready. I mean it.”

Bucky slid close to Steve. “I want to seal that promise with a kiss. It’s been so long...I..” Bucky was actually trembling. It was embarrassing.

“Shhh, baby,” Steve said and leaned over to kissed him, soft and sweet. And Bucky's heart burst with joy, cause this was it. This was worth all the shit he went through to get here. Steve. He wanted Steve so much it hurt. That night his dreams were peaceful ones of Coney Island and cotton candy. It was weird to dream something like that. But he’d take it. The horrible nightmares would come back, but for now he’d take the nostalgia and grab it with both hands.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later, Bucky was ready. Just like falling off a log. Piece of cake. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing and was winging it. 

Steve liked worshipping Bucky's body for some reason. Bucky's body was hard and toned with muscle and not so faded scars. Steve ran his thumbs in the grooves of his Adonis belt.

“So perfect,” Steve smiled up at him. Bucky could really get use to this. His body was different from over 70 years ago but so was Steve’s. Steve was like the god Apollo. All golden and beautiful.

It was Bucky’s past Winter Soldier training that made his body battle hard and deadly, a coiled snake ready to strike.

“Bucky, let me see your face,” Steve reached up his hand toward him.

“No, it's okay.” Bucky turned his head away. He had some itchy red scratches on right side of his face. He couldn't remember when he got them.

“Baby, If don't want to do this. If you're not ready?” Steve face was concerned, his hand running up and down Bucky's side in smoothing strokes.

“I want to fuck you, but…” The urge was so strong. Bucky needed to do this more than air. It was consuming him.

“Understood.” Steve laid out in all his naked glory, stretching his arms above his head.

Bucky’s pupils blew wide. _Oh God_. Steve was like a banquet ready to eat.

“I need to fuck you.” Bucky leaned over to lick each of Steve’s nipples. And was rewarded with a moan from Steve.

“I want you to.” Steve’s voice hitched as Bucky continue to lick and mouth at his nipples.

“Turn over Steve, I want you on all fours,” Bucky said, before giving a parting tiny bite at a nipple.

Steve turned and Bucky slid his hands down his back. Giving a few kisses at the base of his neck and down his spine.

“The lube is in the top drawer,” Steve said.

“Lube?” Bucky blinked. He was busy body worshipping Steve's back.

“Yeah, come on Buck. I want this, but not a sore ass.” Steve shook his ass a little.

“Smartass.” Bucky gave a light slap on Steve’s rear, before fumbling in the drawer for the lube and a condom. Was he really a suave person before he became the Winter Soldier? He seemed to be out of his depth with his clumsiness,  but maybe it was just because it was Steve. He rolled on a condom and squeezed half the container on his hand and dick.

“Is that enough?” Bucky asked.

“Plenty.” Steve looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Back in the past you were always prepared like a Boy Scout.”

“Steve, I'm not any Boy Scout. I'm not that guy anymore.” Bucky frowned.

“Yeah, I know that. I like you just the way you are,” Steve said.

“You're not just saying that?”  Buck asked as he slicked up his own cock.

“Nope.” Steve smiled. “ I know that you changed and I changed to. I’ll always love you back. No matter what.”

“Same. I love you, too.”  Bucky's fingers started tracing around Steve’s fluttering hole.

“So pretty.” Bucky stuck his finger in for exploration. “How does that feel?”

“Good Buck, so good. I'd like another one.” Steve panted out.

“Sure, I’ll give it some more company.” Bucky slid another one in, crooking and twisting his fingers. Steve pushed back, giving breathy moans.

After Bucky was done preparing Steve, he positioned his ready cock, then slid in nice and slow into that tight heat. It was perfect. Bucky’s over lubed dick made messy suction sounds while dripping ‘natural warming’ lube down Steve’s thighs and ass cheeks.

Bucky started slow then rode hard and fast. Steve was begging for more, and he gave it to him. It was wild and perfect, so perfect. And he came with a shout nearly the same time as Steve. Bucky’s brain whited out from his orgasm, going rigid as he spilled into him. Bucky wanted this moment to last forever as he collapsed on Steve, tired and spent. They laid together, intertwined, giving each other lazy kisses until sleep overtook them both.

As Bucky slept a nightmare came. He was running and being dragged back. The pain as claws ripped at him, holding him too tight. _We are Kindred._ An insidious voice, rough, gravely. _We are one._ “No. No.” Bucky begged. His body convulsed as he could feel it changing, merging. The pain was too much, he opened his mouth to scream. He woke up sweating, panting, sick. A dream...no, a memory.

He’d hoped the awful dreams were over, but they always came back. This one was the worst one yet. He was physically nauseous. He was going to be sick.

_Steve. Steve._

“Shut up. Don’t say his name.” Bucky whispered. But he was talking to noone. He got up and rushed to the bathroom, shutting the door.

 

* * *

 

Bucky had a sinking feeling. He knew something was terribly wrong. The voices in his head real. The dream was really a memory. He gazed at himself in the mirror.

He was shirtless, leaning with both hands curled over the edge of the sink, head down, long hair obscuring his face. His shoulders were wider than he remembered. In the reflection he could see his chest and abdomen thick and heavy with hard muscle. A tension played through it and spread over his back as he breathed slowly--in and out, in and out. His right arm, the bicep thicker, veiny and a bizarre match to the molded metal of the left one. But he couldn't account all the changes to the bastard version of the super-soldier serum that coursed through his veins. The forgotten project. The failed experiment. Maybe it wasn't such a failure after all. He remembered the cave back in Ukraine, close to where Steve found him. Bucky discovered something near there, a small Hydra lab, and in it, something that was long forgotten and locked away. A kindred soul. Tortured. Angry. Alone.

Bucky could feel something clawing at his guts. A heaving nausea washed over him as he broke out into a cold sweat. Something wanted out it. It rippled under his skin, an undulating serpent. It whispered to him--

_We want out. We want out._

Bucky shook his head--

_No. No. No._

But he felt his control slipping. A tiny push. It was looking for a tiny crack to slither in, to widen the fissure, until Bucky could no longer hold it together.

_Steve. Steve. Steve._ Bucky chanted in his head he wanted Steve. They both wanted Steve. He thought he was stronger than this. He endured so much. But with this he was caught off guard. The intense longing of the beast. Trapped. Trapped as he was.

_No, don't do this. Please, God. Don't do this._

_Freedom. We want freedom._

_Yes, yes._

The internal struggle physically rippled across Bucky’s skin, bulging and pulsing. He gone deathly pale, dark circles under sunken eyes as he panted, mouth bone dry, heaving again yet nothing came. A retching cough as his diaphragm spasmed and blood splattered in the white porcelain sink. Skin itched and burned, his right hand grabbed at his stomach, clawing at it, digging in. _Stop, stop._ The nausea now a blazing, twisting pain. His fingers--no--sunk in and tore at his skin. Blood dripped on his feet. He looked down at them. They were changing; his toes longer tipped with black talons. Bucky pried his hand away from his stomach. He didn't want to look. Didn't want to look. But with a morbid fascination he did. Bits of his flesh hung from his fingers. Black claws not fingernails glistened with blood. The flesh of his hand peel back like an onion to reveal green, rough scales _._

Another racking wave crashed over him, his left hand cracked the sink. A moaning scream strangled in his throat as his whole body shuddered and broke apart inside. Insides exploding, shredding. Heart pounding and pounding, harder and harder.

And his mind slipped back falling into a darkness, a falling void to escape, escape. A survival reflex he learned so his mind wouldn't break. The pain so familiar--an old enemy he could never quite conquer, but endure. He endured. Bones snapped twisted and popped.  Guts ripped and pulled as he's sunk deeper and deeper.

He couldn't recognize his face, the toothy maw and flaking flesh. It wanted out and it was winning. His eyes glowed a hideous yellow, their irises slitting to lizard pupils. In the reflection something was growing, moving at his shoulder before, like hatching from an egg, a second maw with large pointed teeth emerged, a lizard--no, a dragon with green scales, yellow eyes and curling horns to spit and hiss at the world. It matched the first one now smiling a toothy grin with his long snout. The soft flesh replaced with iridescent green scales. Another head birthed, his neck long and flexible as it is search the room with keen eyes as a long tail flicked against his haunches.

_We are free! Free!_

  
And a tiny voice screamed-- _no_ \--in the back of his mind-- _no, no,_ _don't do this, no!_  

 

 

 

 

Transformation  of Bucky


	3. Chapter 3

_Don't hurt Steve! No!_

_We are free._

It looked around the small room, it's claws clicking on the tiles. There was someone in the doorway, eyes wide. The scent of fear was strong. It’s long tongue licked across its teeth, grinning wide, while another head swept around.

“Steve.” The voice rough, harsh, unused. Steve was the human at the doorway. He was clutching the door frame, knuckles white.

“Bucky?” The blonde’s lips trembled.

“No.” It turned toward the door wanting out, freedom. It’s been so long since its feet walked the ground. The tail whipped around, shattering the mirror, raining glass around the room. Shards of it crunched under its feet.

_Steve_ . _This human, Steve, important?_

_Yes, yes! Please don't hurt him, please don't hurt him._

_I want._ It dragged its tail across the floor broken shards. _Want._

This new body was small yet powerful. The merging was good. It was free, free from that cage, from the pain. The kindred helped us escape. Was so weak, sick, but now strong. Strong. It surged forward, its metal claws reaching out. The human nimbly stepped out of the way. The creature rushed out of the room. _Free._ It tramped around the bedroom, tail lashing out, smashing a chair into kindling. It searched for the human.

“Steve,” It called out. A distant voice in its mind cried out. _No, stop!_

_But why stop? Why?_

_Don't hurt him!_

_Why?_

Furniture was in its way. The flat screen TV crashed to the floor, an oak end table crunched under its feet. _Hungry._ It sniffed the air, then made its way to the kitchen. It smelled food. It grasped the refrigerator door, wrenching it off. _Food._ It started devouring everything in the refrigerator. Destroying containers with its teeth, shoving down handfuls of raw meat, vegetables, everything. It was so hungry.

 

* * *

 

Steve watched. He stood just outside the kitchen. This couldn't be Bucky, but it was--it was. He’d woken up, feeling the bed next to him were Bucky lied just a few hours ago. They made love for the first time since the war. And everything was perfect. It was everything he hoped with Bucky. He was back, and they loved each other. Inch by inch, Bucky was opening up, reclaiming his life, and Steve was remembering why he fell in love with this man before. He was so damn strong, giving, loyal and good down to his soul.

A muffled scream came from the bathroom, and he shot out of bed. The light shined under the bathroom door. Rushing to the door, he placed his hand on the knob.

“Buck, are you alright?” No answer, but he heard something heavy break. He slowly opened the door. Bucky’s name was just on his lips, but it frozen in his throat. Steve's eyes widen in shock. _No, no._ It was like a waking nightmare where everything is off, bizarre. But he was completely awake. Standing there wasn't Bucky at all, but it was. Skin was sloughing off him like a mottling snake. A horned lizard head erupted out of Bucky’s  shoulder and then another. The body convulsed as a green scaled body emerged, bursting out of cocoon, that cocoon being Bucky. It hissed and flexed its neck around. Steve caught his reflection in the mirror. It saw him, quickly turning its head around, tail taking out the mirror.

“Steve.” It said, and it didn't sound anything like Bucky. It was a growling, harsh sound.

“Bucky?” Steve’s mouth was bone dry. All the blood drained out of his face. Because it was him. What happened? And his mind went back to the test results. Bucky had animal DNA. Lizard Genome. It was more than just a lizard though. It was a dragon. Something he'd read in myths and legends. Steve’s heart was pounding, a dull roar rushed in his ears. _No, what did Hydra do?_ There had to be a way to fix this.

Steve dodged out of its grasp, and watch the destruction in its wake as it made its way to the kitchen. It was eating everything in sight, spilling containers of food and drink on the floor as it swallowed and gulped down the contents of the refrigerator. The leftover lasagna from dinner, a half-eaten blueberry pie. A frozen chicken shattered in its teeth, before it pulled out huge chunks of it.

It, no, Bucky. Steve had to remember this was Bucky. If there was any hope left, he had to remember that.

“Bucky?”  Steve entered the room, palms out, to show he had no weapons and meant no harm. He’d did dumber things than this, but he couldn't think what right now. He had to get through to him, maybe Bucky was still there, like when he didn’t remember as the Winter Soldier. The Helicarrier. He’d get through to him, he had to try. His undershirt was damp with sweat, his fight or flight mode kicking in. It always seemed broken in him. He didn't know when to run away. And he wasn't going to do it now. He stepped forward more into the room.

“Buck?”

A head looked up from its meal, licking at its long snout, narrowing its eyes to study him, yellow eyes glowing.

“Steve.”

“That's right, I'm him.” He willed his voice to stop trembling.

For something that big, it was shockingly fast. It sprung on him like a tiger. He barely dodged, his arm nicked by a claw, blood seeping from the scratch.

It spun around, tail lashing out at his legs, knocking him off balancing him. Before, he was bodily slammed into the wall, plaster cracking. His bones ached from impact, as the metal hand, tipped with razor claws squeezed around his neck. Six yellow eyes glared at him, so many teeth with saliva dripping from them.

“Please, Buck,” Steve pleaded, trying to pry the hand off his neck. Talons scratched his neck, and he felt the warm trickle of blood run down his neck.

“You know me.” Steve gasped for air.

“Yes?” One of the heads spoke. It was a question. The hand crushed tight on his throat. Spots floated in front of his eyes as he got light-headed.

“Bucky,” he rasped out.

“No!”  It roared.

Steve was thrown across the room, smashing into the dining table, the heavy oak scraped harshly on the tiled floor. His body flipped over it. Leaping after him, it jumped on the table, then off, landing on him with all fours. It felt like he was hit by a semi-truck, all half a ton of muscle crushing the wind out of him.

“Why? Want? You?” They spoke in tandem each. Each head saying a word.

Steve’s breath wheezed out. Ribs broken. He had to get through. Had to try. “Who are you?”

The heads swiveled around in agitation, a tongue licking out one of the mouths. “We. Are. Us.”

“Who is us?”. The dragon had him pined down, its claws tearing small holes through his clothes, prickling at his skin like needles.

“They called us Hydra.” One head hesitated, shaking it head. “He called us Gogol.”

“Who called you Gogol?”  Steve grimaced out. It hurt to breath, to talk.

“Bucky?” It came out a softer sound, almost shy.

“I want to talk to Bucky.”

“No. He is us.” It growled back, glaring.

“Bucky, listen to me. You can fight this. You are strong and brave and I love you. I love you. Please. Bucky please, you can do this.” Steve’s voice was getting fainter, weaker,  breathing through the pain. The claws resting on his body could rip him him to confetti any second.

The heads were not speaking anymore, only staring at him. Staring at him as if they could uncover his soul. The eyes shifted, becoming more human or was that his imagination. His vision started greying around the edges. _Steve_. And this time it was softer. A weight lifting off his chest. He was drifting, felt wetness on his cheek. Was it raining? _Steve, what have I done. God, what have I done?_

 

* * *

 

Bucky woke up shivering on the kitchen floor. He blacked out. He’d not did that for weeks. But he remembered everything this time. Him changing into a Zmey, Hydra, whatever it was. And the voices were still there, in his head, whispering quiet but there. He fought. Took back control, but for how long. He didn't know.

Peering around, he was in the kitchen. Steve. He saw him behind the dining room table, laying on his back. _Oh, God_. Bucky rushed over. His body was broken and bloody, but alive. Alive! His chest moving up and down with each breath. It was like when he fished him out of the Potomac.

“Oh god, Steve, what have I done?” Bucky whispered. He wasn't safe anymore. He wished he stayed in that damn cave. _God._ His eyes watered, his vision blurry. Bucky gathered Steve's battered body close to him. Being careful not to hurt him more than he already did.

“Steve, wake up. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” Bucky sobbed as he held Steve.

Steve cracked open his eyes. “You're here?” He gave a watery smile.

“Yeah, I'm here.” Bucky gave out a harsh chuckle. His heart squeezed tight, as he choked back tears. “I'm sorry I did this.”

“It wasn't your fault.” Steve reached up, to cup his cheek tenderly. He didn't deserve Steve's kindness.

“Damn it, Steve! It was. It was.” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut.

“It's fine.” Steve’s thumb stroked at his cheek. “It’s fine.”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. It wasn’t fine. It was his worst nightmare. He hurt Steve.

“Buck, we can fix this.”

“No, we can't!” Bucky stared at Steve, willing him to understand.“I have to leave. I can't hurt you like this again.“

“We can work it out.”

“No, we can't. Until there is a day that they can figure out a way to get this out of me, it will be safer for everybody.”

Steve nodded, the smile slipping from his face. “Will I see you again?”

“I’ll send postcards. I’ll find you.”

“We’ll meet again. You can't get rid of me that easy.” Steve squeezed Bucky's shoulder.

“Yeah. I love you, punk.” Bucky kissed the side of his head. He didn't want to let Steve go.

“Same. I love you, jerk.” Steve smiled, holding on to him.

 

Bucky was gone within the hour with just the clothes on his back and his backpack, leaving his life behind. It was for the best.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know if you like! I'd love to hear from you! I'm starmaki at tumblr. ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Bucky returns to Steve, things are ok at first but one night Steve discovers Bucky in the bathroom shedding his skin and turns into something else
> 
>  


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